


I Missed You

by Cards_Slash



Series: Another College AU [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:24:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cards_Slash/pseuds/Cards_Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik has a crappy summer job, Altair doesn't like sleeping alone.  The solution is obviously delivering grilled cheese and smooches in the middle of Malik's overnight shift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Missed You

It was a universal truth that all summer jobs were shit. Malik had managed to score one of the shittiest, an overnight shift at the local Cheap-O-Mart (not its real name) sticking randomly found items where they belonged and dealing with the kind of people that came out at two in the morning to buy shampoo and bagels. It could have been worse; he could have been stuck living at his parent’s house while they raged in silent smoldering hatred about all of his life’s choices. 

It could have been a coffee shop job.

Altair’s Grandmother (call me Grandma, Malik. At this point, I shouldn’t have to keep telling you) had been graciously kind enough to allow him to move in to her house on a semi-permanent basis. Her sweetness was a bitter antidote to his parent’s scathing cold shoulder. They had all but officially disowned him as soon as they found out he was officially in love with Altair. Kadar had sent him a message to know that most of his stuff had been put curbside the very next morning but he’d managed to save the important things and transported them to the safety of Altair’s house for him.

So working a shit job at a shitty store wasn’t the worst possible outcome but it didn’t make him feel any better about life when he stood in the shampoo aisle pondering the meaning of life as he sorted out the many, many, many white bottles of shampoo that seemed to have been maliciously and purposefully misplaced by some unknown terrorist. 

“Hey,” was the way Altair announced his presence, sneaking up the aisle on perfectly-quiet-feet and coming to a stop a friendly-safe-distance away. His shadow was a long drawl across the floor in front of where Malik was crouching to rearrange a series of ‘volume enhancing’ shampoos and conditioners. 

“Hey,” Malik said back. “I thought you said you were really going to sleep tonight. Grandma said she needed you to do—yard work or something.”

Altair looked at the selection of combs on the opposite side of the aisle and shrugged in a embarrassed-and-dismissive way. He cleared his throat as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie with a little more purpose. “I tried. Isn’t it almost your lunch break?”

Malik looked at his watch, “yeah, I guess. Like ten minutes.” He finished with the bottom shelf and stood up to find Altair holding two different kinds of hair bands with the most intensely confused look on his face. He kept flipping them over to look for the description (maybe in an attempt to work out the difference between them) and then flipping them back over to look at the front. 

Malik ignored him out of necessity. When he finished putting the aisle back the way it was meant to look he went around to the one next to it that boasted a wide selection of personal care items and sighed. It was two-minutes-until-his-break and Altair’s voice was loud and insulted sounding as he said, “these are the same thing!”

“So?” Malik said.

“Why are they packaged differently? Why are they different prices? Why do they even exist? It’s just a rubber band.”

Malik shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m going to clock out for my break, meet you by the produce doors.” 

“Ok,” Altair said.

\--

He found Altair with his forehead pressed against the front of one of those claw machines that dispensed ridiculous stuffed animals to people with enough dedication and skill to bother. There was already a rainbow spotted cow under his arm that he must have won in the amount of time Malik took to clock out. 

“It’s hot outside,” Malik said.

“You say that as if you aren’t aware I don’t care,” Altair said back. He straightened up and plucked the cow out from under his arm and held it out to him. Malik took it if only to deposit in the nearest trash receptacle (he wouldn’t, but he liked to think he was capable of throwing away things Altair gave him). “I brought you a sandwich, too.”

“What kind?” Malik asked.

“It’s in my car,” Altair said. He motioned out the automatic doors and led the way through the dimly lit parking lot the very back of the employee section where nobody in the world actually parked except in extreme situations (like Christmas, he supposed). Altair pulled the back passenger door open and motioned inside. The backseat was ridiculous small—narrow with almost no leg room at all—with the slope of the back windshield slanted in such a way that knocking his head against it seemed imminent at every possible moment. “Grilled cheese,” Altair said helpfully when Malik didn’t move immediately.

“You made grilled cheese at three in the morning?” Malik said. He ducked into the back seat and slid across to give Altair enough room to follow him. The door closed and the smell of melty-cheese and warm bread was a pervasive enough odor to make his stomach gurgle in anticipation. “Did you bring me chips and a drink too?”

“Yeah,” Altair assured him and then kissed him. God-but-it-was-still so fucking-good to kiss him, to have the right and the ability to do it. But those infrequent times when Altair came to find him just for the chance at kissing him was better-than- _any feeling_ in the whole of the world. Because Altair liked it, sure, but it wasn’t the same for him. (Malik reminded himself of that all the time, when he was grumpy about wanting more sex than Altair seemed to realize.) 

“Did you bring me out here to seduce me?” Malik asked. It was dark inside the car with only the slanting yellow light of the not-so-distant street lamp to illuminate them. He meant it as a tease but Altair’s hands were pulling his shirt out of his pants and slipping up underneath. 

There was an embarrassed little smile on his face when he bumped their noses together and pressed another kiss against Malik’s lips. It was easy-and-wonderful to kiss Altair. The whole rest of the world could go to shit (and it had, in many different ways) so long as he could wiggled his hands under Altair’s hoodies-and-T-shirts and feel the heat of his skin. As long as they could be idiots in the backseat of a too-small car, making out like the teenagers they only still barely were. 

“I missed you,” Altair said after a moment. His mouth was pink and his cheeks were blushing up rosy. His hands slid down low to grip at Malik’s sides and seem content to stay there was Altair leaned over him poised in a position that had to be difficult (if not painful) to hold. He kissed Malik’s jaw and his neck and then back up to his mouth like an afterthought. One of his hands was down between Malik’s sprawled thighs curling lightly across the stiffening length of his dick trapped in his regulation-work-pants. “Oops,” Altair said with absolutely zero irony.

Malik looked down with him so they were bumping foreheads as they watched raptly the every minute motion it took to undo Malik’s belt, button and zipper. The vague groan of need Malik let escape was nothing in comparison to the pleased breeze of approval from Altair. “Somehow, I don’t think this is as accidental as you’re making it out to be.”

“No?” Altair said curiously. 

“I have to get back,” Malik said. He tried to look at his watch but Altair was kissing him again, his warm hand working at his dick in a dry-slide. “I can’t get anything on my work clothes,” he said.

“I remember,” Altair told him. Then he wiggled backward, fell gracelessly into the rather large space between the front seat (pushed all the way forward) and the back before ducking his head to get his mouth on Malik’s dick. 

“You planned this,” Malik said. Because the front seat of this stupid car was never pushed forward and Altair thought intensely about initiating any kind of sexual contact before it actually happened. (Sometimes, Malik had come to find out from Ezio, Altair had to graph out the pros and cons of initiating any encounter extensively before he could be moved to action.) Altair hummed a response that resonated through Malik’s body. The hazy-smile across his face was something pleased-and-feral crossed with a desperate feeling of loving this single other person with a reckless abandon. 

\--

Altair walked him back to the door of the all-night-supercenter with two hands in his hoodie pockets and a mouthful of gum he was noisily chewing. Malik was soupy with satiation, gnawing at a gummy, cold grilled-cheese and thinking unhappily how many hours remained before he could be at home and in bed. (Orgasms made him sleepy about sixty percent of the time.) 

“Have fun in the shampoo aisle,” Altair said. He pulled at Malik’s arm to get him close enough to kiss him. His lips and tongue tasted like icy-cool-mint (the sort with the sparkles) that contrasted nicely with the gross texture of melted and cooled cheese on gummy bread. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Thanks for the sandwich,” Malik said. He kissed Altair again before he pulled himself away and made an attempt to be a useful employee. “I love you.”

Altair smiled like he couldn’t help it, like it was an instant reflex to hearing the words. “I love you.”


End file.
